


Abandoned and Undone

by TheifOfTime



Category: South Park
Genre: Craig's POV, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, the boys are around 20 years old
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:10:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9116782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheifOfTime/pseuds/TheifOfTime
Summary: He tries to remind himself that returning back to his podunk little hometown after two hard, penniless years in California is not defeat, but the idea of seeing the faces of the people he grew up with makes him nauseated. Virgin veins hold the gushing pain of a past that cannot die. It's not like he wanted things to end the way they did, sometimes life just has a way of flipping you on your belly and fucking you straight up the ass.





	

Craig stares grimly through the tiny windows of the plane. The sky outside is blanketed in thick gray clouds, and he secretly hopes it starts storming and the plane he is on gets struck by lightning so that he doesn't have to go through with what he is doing. He’s always been a proud boy, and never wants to admit defeat. He tries to remind himself that returning back to his podunk little hometown after two hard, penniless years in California is not defeat, but the idea of seeing the faces of the people he grew up with makes him nauseated. He doesn’t even know what he’s going to do once he gets back to South Park; last time he talked to his parents, they’d decided to move to Alabama or something. He settles back into the plane seat, trying not to dwell on the memory of his estranged family. It's not like he wanted things to end the way they did, sometimes life just has a way of flipping you on your belly and fucking you straight up the ass. 

He could always stay with Tweek if he absolutely had to, even if they hadn’t had contact since Craig left him in the dust with the rest of that shit town. It's not like it was anything personal, Craig didn’t talk to anyone once he left, not even his own parents. But Tweek would understand. He had to. Craig had lost what little money he had in the sunshine state, and was forced to leave California after only two years of basking in the sun and smoking cigarettes while navigating the streets of Los Angeles. In fact, he’d used the last of the money he earned washing dishes on the ticket back to South Park. Which, consequently, would mean he’d have no money to rent an apartment or room of any sort once he got home. That’s why Tweek was his only chance, the only person in the whole of South Park who tolerated him enough to lend him a place to sleep while he got his shit together. He’d sleep on Tweek’s bedroom floor for a few months, lick his wounded pride, only leave to hunt for a job to get some cash so that he could leave South Park once again.

It’s not as if growing up in South Park was some nightmare, (He thinks it was definitely a nightmare at some points,especially in his last few months living there) but it was no piece of cake either. South Park was weird like that- some of his memories growing up are like some weird fever dream, when you’re hopped on cough syrup and your dreams are filled with unbelievable occurrences and crazy circumstances, things that when you awake the next morning, the little amount you remember is too much to put into words. Other memories are cold like the South Park snow when you're buried underneath it, your eyes wide but seeing nothing, the bite of the cold snow like razor blades on your chapped knuckles, feeling it all but trapped and unable to even move. He’d tried talking about South Park to some of the kids in California but they just didn’t get it.

The man sitting next to him on the plane was snoring, and Craig’s legs were too long for him to get comfortable in the squashed area. He picked at his nails and bounced his knee. He was visibly nervous and that made him mad. He had spent years perfecting a perfect stony demeanor to deal with whatever life threw at him, but the closer he got to home the more anxious he felt. He looked back outside just as the first few droplets of rain splattered on the rounded plane window. The man next to him leaned over too close for comfort. 

“A perfect storm” The man said in a tired voice.

Craig nodded gently and closed his eyes, succumbing to dreams of thick white snow and kids that he once knew.

**Author's Note:**

> Because we all need more Crenny in our lives :)


End file.
